Chapter 29
When Mari started wearing the engagement ring around her finger over a year ago, no one asked about it. Quite frankly, people didn't notice and somehow just assumed she had been wearing the ring for quite some time. No more offers of meeting their cousins, or nephews, or younger brothers. They all trickled away like magic. Mari often took off the ring before heading into the lab, for fear of the diamond cutting through the nitrile gloves she would have to wear. She always placed it in her first drawer on a tray with the rest of the jewelry she would wear and placed it back on diligently before heading home, knowing that her fiancé would comment about it otherwise. He had an odd sense of pride seeing it on her, and it was one of those things that Mari had let him quietly indulge in. Mari decided that it was one of the less annoying habits of the man.
When the Ootori began wearing his wedding band around his finger, there were eyebrows raised amongst the men at the executive table but no one made such a comment. He quite enjoyed relishing in the subtle attention, quietly declaring to the world that he was no longer on the market and no questions shall be asked of it. It was not quite the same of his best friend who only had a million and a half questions as soon as he saw it.
"When did you get married and how could you do it without me?" he wailed dramatically. The French man was on the verge of literal tears during their dinner. Kyouya had finally agreed to eating with the man after Mari vehemently argued that the Suoh would just come back tenfold if he didn't pander to the needs of the French man every once in a while. Mari enjoyed a night to herself while the Ootori reluctantly went out with his friend as a belated birthday celebration.
"Did you two elope?" Tamaki whispered the word like it was blasphemy. "Are your parents aware—"
"—My family has always approved of Mari," Kyouya narrowed his eyes at his friend, immediately coming to the defense of his wife.
"But no wedding?" The French man was absolutely mortified at the idea. "How could you miss out on seeing your wife in her wedding dress? How beautiful Mari would look to you… and the pictures oh my goodness – Kyouya! You need pictures for the memories down the line."
Kyouya shrugged. "A wedding is a waste of money." Though his friend did have a point about photos. They had a few good shots from their trip up in the mountains a few months ago. One that now sat on his desk at work. The couple smiled at the camera against the backdrop Mount Fuji in their matching windbreakers. It was probably one of the only photos he had of them together. There was a series of both of them looking at one another without either of them noticing – taken only a few seconds before the photo of the posing properly towards the camera. He quite liked those and saved them to his phone instead.
Mari was in charge of taking the selfies, of which he had to admit turned out quite nicely but only when she was able to make him genuinely smile. She often cracked some kind of snarky comment that would at least make him smile unwittingly. Otherwise, his smile had made him seem like he was in pain rather than joy. She tried getting him to take a photo as he had longer arms, but alas she was right in that the man had a penchant for blurry snapshots. The one good photo happened to be the one where she kissed him on the cheek – a photo now tucked away in the midst of the series of blurry ones that he would never let the world see.
"How could you put a price on love?" Tamaki answered as he pulled his hair out. "My wedding was one of the best days of my life!"
"Good for you, Tamaki," Kyouya chewed on his food quietly. God, when will this end? It had been at least an hour of this already. He just wanted to go home and see his wife. He wanted the tea that she always brewed for him to help him sleep after a long day, to silently kiss her in thanks. Kyouya wanted nothing more but to crawl into their comfortable bed and to hold his wife before drifting off to sleep. It was truly the small things that brought him joy nowadays.
"When did all of this happen?" He was still shocked by band on his friend's finger. "Oh dear god, Kyouya –"
"Can you just eat your food? It's getting cold," the Ootori snapped. "We both mutually agreed on what was best for us."
"But seriously? You don't want to see your wife in a gorgeous wedding dress?" Tamaki blabbed with a full mouth of chewed vegetables.
Kyouya rolled his eyes. "I see my wife every day." Though he had to admit, Mari did end up buying a lace long sleeved dress for the occasion. She claimed it was a simple piece but as Tamaki had predicted, she was gorgeous. While she was stunning regardless of what she wore but the two had made it special in their own way. He took the day off and so did she in the middle of the week, as planned weeks prior. She woke up early to do her hair, pulling it into a swept French bun with a pronged pin and to make his coffee, as she always had.
She put in the effort to dress for the occasion, even if it was just dropping off some paperwork at their local municipal office. He too, picked out one of his favourite suits and she picked out a tie that she thought was appropriate. They went out for a nice lunch and even took a brisk walk around the park before stopping by their development property to check out the progress. It had no longer been a hole in the ground or a skeleton of wood. The frame had come together to become a semblance of an actual house. They both picked out the finishing touches of their kitchen. He bought her flowers in place of a bouquet, a spontaneous decision as they passed by a floral shop. They kept it as a centerpiece on their kitchen until it wilted over the next week or two. It was quite the nice reminder of their own private occasion. It was a simple yet perfect day.
"Do you even have pictures of the day? What day was it anyway? How long have you two even been together? So many questions, Kyouya!" Tamaki couldn't stop. He was doing better at stuffing his mouth with food to shut himself up at least.
"It was my birthday," Kyouya sighed, answering one of the many questions that the Suoh had insisted on asking.
"Your birthday! Oh happy days – what a wonderful present of marriage," The French man was all for the happiest of occasions. "So what was it like?"
"It was just paperwork," the Ootori deadpanned, not allowing the Suoh in on any of the details. It was his secret. A day for him and his wife. There was no need to let others in on the occasion, especially not Tamaki.
"Ah, so there will be a wedding! You just put in the paperwork and the wedding will come thereafter, right?" Tamaki was still hopeful. "I shall become your best man," he declared. "The best man of all!"
"No," Kyouya sighed in frustration. How he wished Mari had been around to keep him sane – he truly was losing it at this rate. "There is no wedding. No marriage ceremony. None of that nonsense."
"It's not nonsense," Tamaki argued. "What about your vows? You—"
"Tamaki, we're not having any of that and we are happy the way we are," Kyouya put his foot down. He changed the topic to the new athletic wing of Ouran that had been slated to be built in the same Victorian style but with modern infrastructure indoors. The headmaster had taken his time in droning on about his school and their alma mater, reminding the Ootori that he should donate more to his alma mater and that there was an alumni event coming up. Kyouya bargained an earlier end to the night for a promise that he would show to the event. The Suoh happily agreed and bid him farewell, letting the man finally leave to head home before 9.
Mari had taken the quiet evening to herself, enjoying her glass of wine by the bathtub with the nostalgic studies of Chopin that played in the background. It was an oddly relaxing tune to her, numbing her brain of the long day at work and the quiet lack of bickering over the course of the night. Her brain made note of the artistic stylings of the pianist who played Chopin's pieces, her ears analyzing the notes in the same way that she might have as a teenager. She closed her eyes and immersed herself into the music while her body bathed in the scorching hot tub with bergamot bath salts and floating petals.
Her ears piqued at the sound of a grunt with the front door beeping at the entrance of what she assumed was Kyouya in an irritated mood – the usual behaviour after spending time with his best friend. Mari sighed to herself and drank from her glass, quietly trying to take in the last few minutes of her peaceful night.
The bathroom door cracked open to reveal her husband with a scowl on his face as he loosened his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. Mari raised an eyebrow at the man as if waiting for him to exclaim something about his friend being stupid. Kyouya angrily turned on his electric toothbrush and stared at the wall.
"It couldn't have been that bad," Mari broke the silence as she eyed him making a quiet fuss.
"He wouldn't shut up," he answered with a foamy mouth. "Also, we have to go that stupid Ouran alumni event," Kyouya informed.
"We?" his wife repeated. "What do you mean we?"
"Well, I'm not going alone," Kyouya spat. "I need you," he added. He needed her more than ever tonight and he was not about to leave her alone again.
"Need me?" Mari chuckled. "You don't need me," she brushed off, sinking into the warmth of the tub. Chopin was now somewhere in the background of all the noise between Kyouya brushing his teeth and getting himself ready for his regular bedtime routine. "What would I possibly be good for?" she thought out loud.
The husband finished brushing his teeth and noted the glass of wine between his wife's thin fingers. The wine had swirled around in the glass, almost inviting him to take a sip. He walked over swiftly and took the glass to down a large gulp of it.
"I don't recall offering to share," Mari narrowed her eyes at him when he stole her glass. It was nearly finished after the man had taken his swig of it. Granted, Mari had been trying to make the glass last over the course of her bath as she relaxed.
"We're married; what's yours is mine," Kyouya shrugged. He took another sip – god knew he needed more of it after a long night with being patient with his friend.
It was only then that he realized that Mari had been staring at him intently with her doe eyes, her brows furrowed slightly to make him wonder what exactly she had been thinking when she gave him that look. She batted her eyelashes innocently as she slightly raised her body up from the milky waters, just enough for her collarbones to peak out of the milky bubbles, it left his imagination for what was underneath. Her hair had been up in a loose bun, baby hairs just barely falling across the nape of her neck. She leaned over to the edge of the bathtub with her chin propped up against the top of her hand.
"Why are you gaping at me like that?" she smirked as she leaned closer to him. Her hand pulled his loosened tie down so he could meet her face to face, his legs giving way to kneeling beside her with only the tub in between.
"I wasn't gaping," he lied while his eyes softened and the grip on the wine glass tightened. He was careful not to let it tip over or to shatter against their tiled marble floors. She had him wrapped around her thumb and he couldn't even try to fight against it. He welcomed it, if anything.
"Really?" Mari frowned, pulling down on his tie with another tug.
"Not at all," Kyouya whispered, mirroring the smirk she had on her face earlier. Two could play at this game where they refused to break eye contact. He had gotten close enough to close the distance between them but stayed still, just to see if she would crack. Chopin had now filled in their silence with the occasional drip of water that echoed in their bathroom.
Mari chuckled to herself, looking away. "You're really not going to give in, are you? Alright, suit yourself." She released his tie and pushed him back before sinking back into the tub, letting the warmth envelope her once again. It was no substitute for the warmth of his arms but it served its purpose nonetheless. The small waves of the water echoed across the marbled floors as she refused to acknowledge the Ootori by closing her eyes.
Kyouya placed the glass carefully on the countertop before gently grabbing a hold of her chin to meet her lips. She peeked open her eyes to meet the hunger in his own and quickly a playful smile had been placed against her neck. Her arms hardly had enough time to react with her fingers combing through his hair. She inhaled him, quietly admitting that she had missed him over the course of the quiet night. He smelled like citrus and cedarwood.
"Mm," she sighed. "I thought you'd at least," a quick gasp at the way he nipped her skin. "Get some more wine," Mari finished.
"You have to earn that wine," he murmured against her ear. She fought back a smile because it tickled against her skin. His lips quickly moving their way across her shoulder to her breasts. He couldn't help but to take in the scent of her wet skin. He groaned at how much he wanted her. To touch her, to have her all to himself. He slowly began losing his self-control and he knew how much she loved it.
"What do I have to do to earn that wine, my love?" she whispered huskily, her nail grazing against his jaw.
"Get out of this tub, god damn it," Kyouya grunted, obviously frustrated by the ceramic obstacle between them, his knuckles slowly turning white as he held onto the edge of the tub. She laughed quietly to herself, echoing in the bathroom. She shyly sat up and tried to make herself decent, covering her breasts with one arm as she pointed her chin to get the man to look across the room.
"Help me?" she asked innocently, her hand gesturing to the Turkish cotton towels on their rack. He moved quickly to throw it at the woman who could barely tie the cloth around her body before he scooped her over his shoulder. Her wet arms soaked through his dress shirt as he carried her swiftly over to their well-made bed, courtesy of the Shadow King himself.
"Oh my god," she laughed as she saw the drippings of water against the hardwood floor. "Kyouya, my body is still wet."
"Too bad," he chuckled as he placed her roughly onto their king-sized bed. He crawled over her to plant kisses across her damp shoulders before meeting her lips over and over again after peppering her body with markings of his own. She worked quickly to undo his belt, her fingers easily finding themselves stripping the clothes off his body like she had done so many times before. They found themselves easily in the same pattern as they always had over a decade ago. From their years in university, somehow ending up over and over again in the same position.
Only now, it was different. Back then it had been a fleeting moment, a quiet thought of what-ifs and maybes to something that was never-to-be-spoken about when the thought had crossed their minds. Now they could laugh freely as their bodies entangled themselves, taking the time to relish in each moment knowing that it wasn't going to be the last. The learning curve of figuring out each other bodies when they were just students grew immensely after a few months. How he knew that one spot at the back of her neck made her sigh and how she always somehow dug her nail into the one spot in his lower back that made him groan. Over the years, they remembered each other in ways that words could not.
"Where's my wine?" she reminded him as she comfortably laid against his chest after their backs had been coated with a sheen of sweat. His heavy-lidded eyes popped back open as he narrowed them at her. Somehow their night had grown into a wrestling match of pleasuring one another until they both quietly called a truce. Not a terrible end to the night, he mused. Most of their nights ended like this anyway, curled up against each other. She cozied up against his chiseled body, looking up at him with a look of amused anticipation. She was kidding and the Ootori's face was even more amusing to her than the joke itself.
"You'll get your wine tomorrow," he grumbled, unfazed by her joke. He was very comfortable and most definitely did not want to move from this position. He combed through her long silky hair that had fallen apart at some point, likely his fault after running his fingers through it all. He quietly buried his nose in her scalp. He could stay like this for the entire night. Thankfully it was the weekend tomorrow and he could stay in this position for however long he wanted to without the beckoning of a scheduled meeting in the morning.
"Mm," Mari hummed. "I'll put it on the shopping list."
"There's a list?" he scoffed.
"A mental one, yes," she told him. "Wine, oranges, laundry detergent, earbuds…" Mari quietly listed, mostly to herself as a reminder for the things to buy at the grocery store the next day. She figured that the Ootori had gotten too lazy to pay attention by now. He was probably halfway to falling asleep.
"Earbuds?" he repeated the last one. Mari rolled her eyes, assuming that he only caught onto the last one because the other three did not interest him. Something about this man and electronics always held his attention.
"Yes, I think mine finally called it quits," she sighed to herself. "It won't hold a charge. It couldn't even last through my run this morning," her tone more disappointed than she had intended it to be. Her run was especially empty when all she could hear was her heartbeat beating against her chest instead of anything but.
"Well, they are old," Kyouya pointed out. It was about time to replace them. The husband had a penchant for pointing out Mari's outdated electronics, often trying to convince her of the new top-of-the-line things that come out on a yearly basis. Mari would stare blankly at what was offered and brush off the spiel of her husband before moving onto something else. It was always one of those topics where they had to agree to disagree.
"Hey," Mari scowled. "They were top of the line."
"Three years ago," the Ootori retorted. "I'll get you a new pair," he promised. "Ah, I'll get the new smartwatch too," he thought to himself out loud.
"The what now?" Mari narrowed her eyes at the husband. She did not usually spend her money on frivolous things, often using them until they reached the end of their lifetime like her 3-year-old wireless earbuds that had certainly seen better days. Or her now replaced laptop that certainly ran faster than she had ever been used to. Kyouya had definitely cringed every time she had used her old laptop.
"Oh, I'll get you one too," he added, assuming that his wife had felt left out. A couple hundred dollars was chump change to the Ootori after all. "It'll be very useful for you to track your fitness with it."
"Whatever," she sighed into the crook of his neck. The wife was too tired to argue with him and there was no need to ruin a perfect night with her husband. She sunk into their soft comforter to let the night carry them into a deep slumber that had been much needed over the week.
As promised, the Ootori came home the next day with what he had intended for while Mari was in the midst of tossing a salad for their dinner. Mari had gone grocery shopping and left the Ootori to his devices as he slept well into the morning. The condo was empty when she arrived back home in the mid-afternoon and she went along her usual chores throughout the weekend in cleaning their rooms.
"For you," he kissed the temple of his wife as he presented two sleek boxes on the counter for her. Mari looked at boxes in confusion as her arms were occupied with the mixed greens.
"What?" Mari blinked at the gifts. "I thought—"
"I said I'd get a new pair for you," he shrugged, patting her firmly on the back.
"I thought you would have forgotten," Mari mused. "You were half-asleep last night."
"Was not," he huffed in retaliation. "And besides, I believe a thank you is in order," he raised an eyebrow.
Mari brought over the salad bowl to the other side of their kitchen island where they usually ate dinner. The Ootori had come prepared with a bottle of red that paired nicely with their meal, also something that Mari hadn't realized the man had paid attention to. She mentioned the wagyu on sale at their local grocers sometime during the weekdays.
Mari smiled to herself. He truly was a good husband, at least for today.
"Thank you," she quietly whispered as she served him his plate and placed it on the counter. He smiled back at her from the other side, accepting her heartfelt gratitude while he opened up the wine he also promised from the night before.
She walked over to him, encircling her arms from behind his chest. "I love you," she murmured with a quiet sigh.
"I know," he told her. Even though he did like hearing it from her.
"You're supposed to say it back," Mari grumbled.
"Says who?" he smirked.
The woman rolled her eyes when she got the taste of her own medicine.
With a promise of visiting, Mari and Kyouya had found themselves in the private maternity ward of one of the private hospitals that the Ootoris owned. They had come straight after work. It was well into the evening now with both of them exhausted. Mari was the first to poke her head into the room, shyly knocking on the door to politely announce their arrival.
"Oh, you came!" Fuyumi waved them in. No one else had come besides her husband. The new mother sat up on the bed as she recovered; it had only been barely a day after she had given birth to the newest Ootori. The baby had been feeding in her arms. Kyouya trailed behind his wife who was obviously better mannered than the CEO to handle the interaction of it all.
"Of course," Mari responded warmly. "Congratulations." Kyouya nodded along with his wife, offering his silent congratulatory message.
"Oi, Kyouya, you aren't even going to say hello to your sister?" Fuyumi called him out.
"Hello," the man pushed up his glasses. "Where's your husband?" he asked, looking around the spacious ward.
"He just stepped out," Fuyumi explained. "Told him to go home to freshen up, he has been here for nearly two days. Would you like to hold your niece?" she offered with a bright smile.
Kyouya narrowed his eyes at the offer, his expression bordering disgust and confusion. Mari chuckled to herself at the man and rolled her eyes. As expected of the man who had zero intent dealing with the nitty gritty side of parenthood.
Fuyumi narrowed her eyes back at her favourite brother, appalled by his hesitation. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"What?" he shot back.
"That look!" the elder sister accused. "This is your niece! She's a part of your family. How could you be disgusted by her?"
"It's just his face," Mari cut in to relieve the tension between the siblings. She patted her husband's arm so he wouldn't say anything stupid to his sister. The Takuya made her way to the edge of her sister-in-law's bed, offering to take the one-day-old off her arms delicately. Mari cooed quietly at the bright-eyed little baby.
"Ah, she has your eyes," Mari observed as she held the child in her arms. "And your nose," she told Fuyumi. "But babies change so quickly," she added. "Who knows what she'll look like a year from now. I remember when Taika looked so much like Kanda as a child, but now he's grown to look more like his mother," she continued on. She reminisced on how fast her nephew had grown over the decade.
The infant whined before beginning to cry. "I think she wants her mother," Mari tried to give back the child.
"Oh no," Fuyumi shook her head. "My arms need a break. Could you take her just for a bit?"
"I can try," Mari smiled nervously. It had been a long time she had held a baby. Yumi was a fussy baby who only wanted her father and did not like to be held for more than ten minutes at a time. Taika was an easier child who was willing to be held by anyone and anybody. Who knew what the temperament of the little Ootori was going to be like. Mari stood from the edge of the bed and carried the baby to the windows of the ward, silently soothing the baby with the movement of her arms jogging her up and down. It took about a minute before the infant had calmed and began enjoying the movement.
"Oh, she's good," Fuyumi whispered to her little brother as they both observed the woman quieting the baby. "Dibs on calling her as our babysitter whenever."
"What?" Kyouya shot a look of disapproval. If Mari was tied up, so was he. He was not ready for a screaming baby beside him as he worked through the afternoons. "No," he refused. While the Ootori had always told Mari of the importance of having an heir, he quite frankly enjoyed their childless life as they were now. He had made less of an effort to remind her of the need for an heir nowadays. They would cross that bridge whenever they were ready.
"Come on," Fuyumi smiled deviously to her brother. "The sooner you produce an heir…" the sister reminded in a sing-song tone. "Everyone is waiting, you know."
"Shut up," Kyouya quietly seethed at his sister. "We're in no rush."
"Maybe she'll get baby fever after this," the elder Ootori was amused as she watched Mari from a distance. The Takuya had successfully managed to get the baby to drift back to sleep. That was all babies did after all. Eat, sleep, cry, soil their diapers. "And then our little Nao can have a little cousin to play with. It'll be perfect," Fuyumi imagined with a blissful sigh.
Mari looked back at the two Ootoris from the other side of the room. Fuyumi gave her a thumbs up. Her husband had a scowl on his face. His usual expression at this point. Mari made a note to remind him that scowling would only age him faster. She smiled back politely before looking down at the sleeping infant. They were so small… it was crazy to her that they grew as fast as they did. She held onto the infant for a little longer to let the Ootoris catch up. Mari hoped that the two would foster a better sibling relationship, just like she did with her own siblings.
"I quite like not having children right now," Kyouya admitted quietly to his sister. "We're not at the point where we want offspring."
"You can't just call them offspring," Fuyumi scolded. "And besides, Mari would make a great mother – she's such a natural. Just look at her." The new mother sighed at the way Mari held her child so carefully. Nao had been perched against Mari, her baby's head resting against the aunt's shoulder so peacefully as she looked out the window, lost in her own thoughts.
"I know," the Ootori beamed at his wife in pride. "She's perfect."
"Is she now?" Fuyumi raised an eyebrow at her little brother, as if daring him to repeat the phrase.
"She is," he answered earnestly, refusing to back down from the dare. Kyouya wondered what Mari was thinking about on the other side of the room. Was she really considering having children now? The Ootori was not entirely opposed to the idea, though their intertwined lives together had felt so brief – Kyouya had only wanted to make it last with just the two of them, no more and no less. He felt complete as is.
"Hm," Fuyumi let the statement sit between them for a few seconds before commenting. "You really love her."
"Yes," he answered pridefully. It was a fact. Nothing to be ashamed of. That was his wife over on the other side holding his niece. His partner. The future mother of his children. He was damn well proud of being the equivalent for her. She turned at the right time to meet his eyes, her eyes crinkled into a small smile – asking silently if it was alright to return back to the Ootoris. Kyouya returned the look with a nod, granting her permission to invade, though she certainly did not have to ask for it after all these years.
Fuyumi held her arms out for her child to which Mari quickly transferred with ease.
"I hope that wasn't too much trouble," Fuyumi apologized.
"None at all," the scientist tapped the nose of her new niece. "She was a gem."
The mother laughed. "I hope she stays that way."
"Don't we all?" Mari sighed to herself. She turned to her husband and nudged him near his sister's bed. "You should hold her," she encouraged with a whisper.
"Hold what?" Kyouya snarled, not even bothering to keep his voice down. He obviously did not realize that babies were sensitive to sound. Not everyone slept like a log.
Mari gave him a stern look. "Your niece, of course."
"It's fine," Fuyumi waved off, unoffended. It was typical of her little brother at this rate. "Wouldn't trust him with my baby right now anyway." The look on his face earlier gave zero confidence to Fuyumi in letting her little brother take care of the child that she took so long to bore.
"Excuse me?" Kyouya glared.
Mari gave it some thought before shrugging and nodding. "Yeah, honestly – that's fair," she agreed with her sister-in-law. The man was certainly in no capacity to be paternal right now and there was no use in trying to force it upon him. Mari was quick to take the cue to leave when Fuyumi let out a stifled yawn, dragging out her husband from the patient room and into the parking garage where his car was parked in the VIP area.
They settled into the vehicle silently, both tired after a day of work and wanting nothing more than to eat leftovers in their fridge before settling into bed together. Only the whirring of the engine filled their silence – the Ootori was not really one to drive with any background noise except for the occasional podcast. They stopped at a traffic light before the Ootori had posed the question to her.
"You really don't think I'm fit to be a father?" he quietly asked.
Mari turned to her husband, perplexed by such a question. "You're the one who's more confident in this whole parenting thing than I am," she pointed out. He had always been the one to remind her that they would be great at it. That they would grow into the position, to adapt to whatever came around.
"It seemed easy," Kyouya admitted. "After all, we have all the resources for it." And by that, he meant the money.
Mari chuckled. "It's easy to raise a child. But to raise a happy and successful one… that is the challenge," the wife explained. "To create a good family is also a challenge in itself. Neither of us had conventional families, yours less so than mine."
"What is conventional, anyway?" the Ootori huffed.
"I digress," He had brought up a good point. What did they know about conventional families, anyway? Mari returned back to the topic. She reached for his hand on the stick shift and clasped over his palm in assurance. "You'll make a great father in due time."
"Why not now?" the Ootori mumbled as he stepped back on the accelerator. They were due to be home in five minutes or so at this rate.
"Because you can't even hold a baby without thinking it's some alien creature," Mari explained factually.
"It's not my baby," Kyouya retorted. It was a lame excuse and Mari rolled her eyes at it. "Why would I have to hold it?"
"It is your niece," the wife reminded. "Also mine, by law," she added. "I can't believe you still want kids and you don't have the slightest clue to figure out how to deal with them," Mari laughed to herself.
"Parenting books aren't much of a h—" Kyouya started off.
"Wait – no way. You've read parenting books?" Mari wheezed. "Holy shit, you're such a nerd even about parenting," she teased.
"I'm not a natural like you are," he huffed. "And besides, how else does one educate themselves about children?"
"Well, you know – we were all once children," Mari pointed out after she had calmed down from laughing at how silly the lengths her husband had gone to try to understand children. "And there is no better way of learning than doing," the scientist lectured. "Why are you so scared of them? They won't hurt you. Perhaps they'll judge you or hurt your ego inadvertently, but they're harmless."
"I'm not afraid," Kyouya grumbled. "They're just... strange, that's all." A foreign concept to him. An idea he was unsure of where to begin tackling.
"Strange," Mari repeated carefully. "Well, they do some odd things. But you learn to accept them. Enjoy the moments with them, however odd they may be. Isn't that the beauty of watching children grow? It's like reliving your childhood – but better. Naivety at its finest. It's quite nice to forget what it is like to be an adult while with children."
It was times like these that he was grateful to have her in his life. In the same ways that she would teach him the commoners' way of thinking during their days on his couch in their university years, she taught him perspectives he would have never otherwise had understood. She was patient with him, despite all the teasing.
She held onto his hand tightly and rested her head on his shoulder up the elevator of their condo. He brought her heated leftovers from the microwave as they ate across from one another, not even bothering to sit on their bar stools in their white marbled kitchen. Weeknight dinners were never really made to be exciting. This was married life – their life as mediocre as each day came and they cherished it nonetheless.
"You'll be a good one," she assured him again while handing him his regular tea, brewed at the perfect 80 degrees Celcius after their usual night time routine. Kyouya had his top-of-the-line tablet perched on his legs with whatever article had been opened while his wife had blow dried her hair and made him tea.
"Hm?" he gladly took the mug from her and patted the mattress to welcome her to settle in with him. She crawled into bed, leaning against his body for warmth. They spent their evenings like this, usually reading quietly.
"A good father," she clarified. "It isn't that you aren't fit to be one," Mari assured. "It's just that you have to learn to be one," Mari assuaged the thought that weighed heavily on his shoulders for the night. She could tell just by the way his eyes furrowed at the screen of his tablet that he was bothered still. "I have every confidence that you'll learn – as you have learned with everything you put your mind to. But goodness, Kyouya, kids are not a formula you can memorize with variables you can plug and chug. You cannot approach them like they are a framework – they are far from it. They are human like you and I."
"Alright," he nodded in understanding. "Human," he repeated.
"Sensitive humans," Mari clarified. "You know, the kind that get hurt because they haven't learned to be strong yet."
"Right," Kyouya sipped on his tea. "How did we manage?" the Ootori wondered. To have come so far with so little emotional support.
"I suppose I had Louise. But in many ways, we had to raise ourselves, didn't we? But we can be better. Do what our parents could not. Maybe that's why you think I'm a natural, I'm simply doing what my parents did not do for me," Mari figured.
"They never put you to sleep?" Kyouya smirked.
"As if your parents ever put you to sleep," Mari shot back with rolled eyes. "I'm sure you'll put our child to sleep with whatever lecture you choose to give."
"What is that supposed to mean?" he narrowed his eyes at her.
"That I'll be the fun parent," the wife grinned. "And you'll… I don't know. We'll figure it out for you."
"I'll be the cool parent," he declared.
"Nah," Mari shook her head. "You're a nerd. Nerds aren't inherently cool." It was a fact.
"I'll have you know that I was the—"
"Cool type," Mari muttered. "Yes, whatever. Can we agree to not subject our kid to this whole Host Club nonsense?"
Kyouya shrugged. "No guarantees."
